Chocobros Plus Four
by Noticed Kohai
Summary: A momentary lapse in judgement leads to an unexpected addition to the Chocobros. Takes place in the It Hurts setting.
1. Chapter 1

Prompto's morning started like shit.

The nausea woke him up half an hour before his alarm was set to go off, and he only barely had enough time to scramble out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom, before hurling. His midnight snack - a moonlit date with Cup Noodle, mustard, and pickles, and a triple stack fluffer nutter sandwich - plunged into the toilet in a disgusting, clumpy beige mass. At the time, it had been a delicious indulgence. Now, it was like hell had opened up just for Prompto. Vomiting up that much bread, especially that much bread and thick peanut butter, was worse than what he imagined being throat-fucked by a Daemon would feel like.

The next half hour was spent dry-heaving and vomiting up the water that Ignis urged him to keep drinking.

"You must stay hydrated, love."

"I'll just... Puke it... Up... Again," he panted, tears streaming down his cheeks.

As if to prove his point, his stomach lurched, and foamy green bile dribbled into the bowl. Next to him, Ignis sighed and ran the backs of his knuckles up and down the curve of Prompto's spine.

"You poor thing..." Gentle lips pressed to his shoulder, "I will schedule an appointment for you with the physician. It should still be early enough for us to get you in, today."

Prompto sagged against the toilet, too worn out and too out of breath to bother responding. It took another fifteen minutes of belching and whining for him to finally feel comfortable enough to let Ignis haul him to his feet, so he could shower away the sweat and sick that clung to his body. While Ignis stepped into the bedroom to call Noctis, Prompto started peeling his clothing away, starting with his sleeping pants. Usually, he just slept in his boxers, but their new apartment got cold as shit during the winter, it turned out. Ignis explained that it was because of why they liked it so much: the large windows. One whole side of their apartment was made up of sliding glass doors and floor-to-ceiling windows, which apparently did jack shit for insulation, but it gave Prompto a beautiful view of Insomnia 2.0, and it provided enough light for Ignis's good eye to better make out shapes and shadows.

Ah, well, you win some, you lose some.

With his pants pooled around his feet, Prompto stepped out of the fabric and started working to get his sweatshirt off (seriously, it was February and it was fucking _cold_ ). When he chucked it onto the floor with his pants - Ignis would give him shit for not using the hamper, but whatever - and hooked his thumbs under his boxers. As he looked down, he frowned at the way his belly had gotten kinda pudgy. Over the last few weeks, he'd started to suspect some weight gain, but this was officially over what he was okay with. He _really_ had to lay off on the midnight snacks (read: meals), if he wasn't going to make up for it during the day...

He froze.

Prompto stared at his waist, then jerked his eyes up to the mirror.

He turned to the side, a steel ball settling in the pit of his gut.

This... This was... Prompto knew what weight gain looked like. It didn't...

Trembling fingers brushed over the bump. It was too low to be fat, too round and firm between his hips. This... This was...

A low, horrified whimper broke through the cold air as anxiety seized him fast and swift, like electricity crackling across his chest and up his throat. As his knees threatened to give out from under him, he staggered back to lean against the cool wall for support.

No, no, no no, _nononononono_ -

"Prompto?" Ignis rushed into the bathroom, arms reaching for him, "Are you going to be sick?"

"Oh my god..." was all he could wheeze.

"Prompto, love -" Ignis's voice was starting to adopt its own layer of panic, now, " -Talk to me. Tell me what is happening."

Prompto slapped a hand over his mouth as the first of what would be many tears fell. No, _no_ , this couldn't be _happening_!

"Oh, gods, Iggy - I'm -"

"Do you need me to take you to hospital?"

How? How did this _happen_?! They were _always_ careful - they _always_ used a condom when Ignis was topping. They never took chances, were always careful to make sure the condom never broke -

His blood ran cold.

* * *

 _Two months earlier_

Ignis had been through a downright _awful_ day.

First, Noctis had been much too ill to attend a meeting with Tenebraean diplomats, so it had been up to Ignis to go in his stead, the meeting too important to consider rescheduling. This, of course, made him late for his own appointment, which had been scheduled towards the tail end of Noctis's. His schedule obliterated, Ignis spent the first half of his day rushing from meeting to meeting, rescheduling that he couldn't make. When he caught word of a gas line exploding due to a construction crew failing to call the city before digging, a pressure had begin to build behind his eyes.

Traffic on the way home, gridlocked due to a wreck on the highway, did nothing to improve his mood. By the time he had gotten home and unloaded the groceries, Ignis had realized, in his haste, he had forgotten to pick up the tomatoes required to make the sauce for that night's lasagna. His driver had already clocked out for the day, and there would be no way for Ignis to get them in time for dinner. He was _beyond_ incandescent. In his rage, he considered throwing a brand new champagne bottle to the tile floor just to hear it shatter.

Which was when Prompto walked through the door.

The ripe stench of sweat; the vision of Prompto's flushed skin, vibrant in his mind's eye; and his simmering anger went straight to his cock all at once. Before they'd even had time to exchange pleasantries, Ignis had dragged his partner onto the kitchen table, pulled his gym clothes off, and was fucking him for everything he was worth.

For once, Ignis wasn't thinking. For better or worse, every ounce of his consciousness was zeroed in on how tight and hot and _wet_ Prompto was around his cock, how sweaty he tasted on his tongue, how silky his small tits felt as he squeezed them tight in his palms, how delicious his noisy begging for " _More_! Iggy - oh - _gods_ \- fuck me! Fuck me - _yes_ \- _fuck_ me!" sounded in his ears.

Three orgasms later - seven, if you asked Prompto - and he felt himself starting to return to some plane of intelligence. His head lolled to the side to check on the man next to him, who was still panting at the ceiling from where they were lying on their carpeted living room floor.

"Are you alright, love?"

He hadn't exactly been _gentle_... Especially not with those unbearably _perfect_ breasts of his; yes, those would surely have bruises, later.

"Hmm? Mm..." With one heaving motion, Prompto rolled over to drape himself over Ignis's body, "Mm-hm."

Astrals preserve him, he sounded so sweet when he was blissed out like this. Ignis, still clad in his shirt and socks, instinctively wrapped his arms around Prompto's sweaty shoulders. He could feel his own sweat drenching his shirt and gluing his hair to his forehead. His stays and garters had long since become uncomfortable, but he couldn't be bothered to remove them, just yet.

"Bad day?" Prompto mumbled, idly massaging Ignis's sensitive balls with a gentle palm.

Ignis pressed a kiss to his unruly hair, sighing into it so that it fluttered over his lips. "Not anymore."

Exhausted, Prompto hummed and snuggled closer.

"I hope you don't mind take-out for dinner, tonight."

"Pizza?"

Well, he had been thinking of Tenebraean, but, "You are the boss."

"Hell yeah."

Together, they dozed off, goaded into sleep by the warm evening sun pouring into their living from the large window overlooking the city.

* * *

It had all happened so fast, it was so emotionally charged, that the thought hadn't crossed either of their minds. In his memories, Prompto could still feel Ignis's come oozing onto his thighs; neither of them had thought anything of it, too accustomed to Prompto's male-presenting body to pay any mind to the fact that he still had a full set of female reproductive organs.

Somehow, the _memory_ of their mistake was more concrete proof to Prompto than the physical evidence of what he saw in the mirror with his own two eyes.

" _Prompto_."

Ignis sounded thoroughly panicked, something Prompto hadn't heard since Noctis was sucked into the Crystal.

" _Please_ , love, I cannot _see_ you. Tell me what is _happening._ "

At an absolute loss for words, Prompto took hold of his wrist and placed his hand over his belly.

"Wha - ?"

In an instant, amyriad of emotions flashed across Ignis's face, one after the other.

Fear. Confusion. Understanding. Shock.

Then... Awe.

As the final gear clicked into place, both of his palms began to smooth over that small bump, mapping it out with almost reverence. There was still a shade of surprise lingering on his face but, as he ran his fingers over Prompto's belly, a cool, quiet serenity eased its way into his expression.

"You're _pregnant_..."

Then, Ignis's voice shifted into something soft, emotional, but Prompto had screwed his eyes shut, feeling like his heart was about to burst within the confines of his chest.

"Oh, _Prompto_..."

Unfortunately, Prompto felt no such quietude.

"Iggy - Iggs - what - what are we -" Prompto broke off into an incoherent, hyperventilating mess.

Pregnant.

He was _pregnant_.

His body had a _baby_ inside of it.

Prompto wasn't _ready_ to be a dad - he couldn't _carry_ a _baby_ \- he couldn't raise a _child_! He could _barely_ take care of _himself_!

It wasn't fair. It wasn't _fair_! He didn't deserve this! Prompto fucking helped save the _world_ , so why were the gods punishing him like this just for slipping up _once_? _Dammit_ \- why didn't he take _birth control_?!

What if - what if it came out like _him_?! What if it had all of his anxiety and dysphoria and food problems and -

"Prompto, love, listen to me." Ignis's voice - still so calm, almost peaceful - sliced through the frenzied toxicity that percolated through his head. His lips grazed over the shell of Prompto's ear, stubble rough against his cheek.

At some point, he must have stepped into Prompto's space to wrap his arms around his shoulders, and was now holding Prompto just tight enough for his chest to press against his with every steady inhale.

"Right now, the only thing you have to do is breathe with me."

"I can't - Iggy - I - I - I _can't_ -"

"You _can_ , love. In, and out. Do you feel my chest?" Ignis took a deep breath, deep enough for his chest to swell against Prompto's, and slowly released it. "Just like this, love. You can do it."

It felt impossible to focus on anything other than the way the world was crumbling around him, the way his panic coiled around his insides, but Ignis's gentle pressure was a start. Prompto hugged Ignis's waist ans squeezed him tight, desperate to cling to something that would keep him grounded. He buried his face in Ignis's neck, and let him rock his body while he cried.

"Everything will be alright, Prompto," whispered Ignis, "I love you so much. We will be alright."

"I'm _pregnant!_ " Prompto sobbed, "How can you say that?!"

" _Prompto_ , love, we helped the _King_ of _Lucius_ defeat Ardyn Lucis Caelum, and eradicate the Starscourge. Together, we defeated _countless_ Daemons and protected _thousands_ of people during the Dark Years." Ignis paused to press a kiss to his shoulder. "We have seen the end of the world. I promise you, this is not it. Everything will be fine."

Tender whispers of encouragement were nearly drowned out by the sobs echoing off of the bathroom's tile surfaces, but Prompto, for as deep as he had dug himself into his hole of anxiety-fueled tears, managed to quiet down after so many minutes of feeling as if he were about to asphyxiate on his own tears and drool. By the time Ignis made his first failed attempt at peeling his partner away from his chest, Prompto's entire head felt like it had swollen to twice its normal size. His throat was scratchy and thick; his tongue was heavy; his eyes were red and sore; his cheeks were stained and puffy; his head throbbed from the exertion of crying. Meanwhile, the rest of him felt sluggish, too heavy to do little more than sag into Ignis's body.

His fingers, aching from squeezing his nightshirt so tightly, tugged hard on Ignis's lower back to keep him from stepping back. If he could crawl into Ignis's body, just curl up inside of him where it was warm and safe, he would do it in a heartbeat. As things were, he was content with clutching him like he was some kind of life preserver.

"I will be right back, love," Ignis murmured, kissing his shoulder for a second time.

That only made him hold him that much tighter, "Don't go..."

"I am going nowhere, I promise," Ignis assured him, his velvety voice, for once, failing to ease Prompto's rabid anxiety, "I must call Noctis to inform him that the half day I just requested must now be a full vacation day." He paused, "It would also be prudent to cancel your appointment with the physician," he tacked on as an afterthought.

A small whimper was muffled by Ignis's shirt when he, again, tried to step out of his arms. Prompto knew - he _knew_ \- that he was acting like a child, that he was being weak and needy and Ignis actually _really_ had to go let Noctis know that he wouldn't be coming into work, but he couldn't help it. He was so _scared_ , and _exposed_ , and _vulnerable_ , and his stomach was still _churning_ , and he _needed_ Ignis, and... And...

Ignoring his pathetic protests, Ignis reached back to take a firm hold of Prompto's wrists and pry them away from his body. Once he had enough room, he took a slight step back to put some small distance between them, still holding Prompto's hands between them.

"You are going to - Prompto, look at me."

Very, very slowly, he forced himself to meet his partner's gaze. It was just as gentle as before, but the commanding tone his voice had taken was making it clear that Prompto wasn't allowed to have a say in what happened next.

"You are going to take a shower, brush your teeth, and dress yourself in the clothing I set out for you on the bed," he instructed, "I will make the necessary phone calls, and get started on breakfast. I am _not_ leaving. Do you understand?"

Prompto nodded - or, well, his head bounced a little.

With that, he was left alone.

He twisted the shower faucet to get it running, yipping when the initial cold burst of water hit him square in the shoulders and quickly ducking back to slam the shower door shut. While it warmed up, he brushed the sleep out of his mouth and finished stripping out of his athletic bra and briefs. Truth be told, Prompto hadn't realized how _much_ he hated binding his chest until the morning he finally confessed his feelings to Ignis. Most binders were too stretchy for them to be worth his while, but the one brand that kept him flat as a board, and lasted _months_ , was rough and unforgiving on his skin. Being free to walk around in just a sports bra (or totally free, if he was at home) was so goddamn liberating that it literally changed his entire quality of life for the better. Though, he had to admit that he was kinda lucky; he was such a small dude that no one around them even paid him any mind. The only people that noticed were, of course, Noctis and Gladiolus, and both of them had initially just thought that Prompto was developing some sick pecs at the gym.

Hah. He wished.

Once he stepped into the shower, Prompto took the time to really _look_ at his body. There was still the slight flutter of fear in his belly, and the sense of dread continued to weigh his limbs down, but the moment to himself was giving him a chance to actually collect his thoughts, like the steady stream of water was wearing his panic away until he could hear his own voice, again.

His chest hadn't gone up any cup sizes but, when he cupped them in his hands and applied just the barest of pressure, he could definitely feel a familiar soreness that he usually only felt when he was on his cycle. That bump, though, that's what was making Prompto's head spin, trying to make sense of everything. When he had gone to sleep the night before, that definitely had _not_ been there. He wasn't as bad as he used to be when food was involved, but Prompto still took care of his body; even if he had gotten a little heavier since the sun returned, he _absolutely_ would have noticed something like this settled between his sharp hip bones. It wasn't huge, but it was, well, very obviously a _baby bump_.

Then again, when he was a teenager, his tits came in overnight, too. Anatomy was weird.

Still, he frowned in silent lamentation over the new stretch mark he could see forming. Well... At least Ignis wouldn't see it.

Being clean was refreshing in its own right, but the feeling soon dissipated as he toweled off. He felt lethargic, like he usually did after a particularly shitty panic attack, and knowing that Ignis was waiting for him in the kitchen didn't make things easier. Even if his head had cleared, the idea of discussing their options... It wasn't a good feeling. It felt like there would be no winning, for either of them. Abortions, for him, were an unbearably dark thought. Reclined on a cold medical table, his feet in stirrups while a stranger inserted a speculum inside of his most delicate place, and wrenched his cervix open to stick a vacuum inside of it...

But a pregnancy, and childbirth? Just thinking about it made Prompto feel lightheaded.

And, poor Iggy, he would have to deal with him, either way, because they both knew that either option would fucking _wreck_ him.

He could only dress himself so slowly, and, after a few minutes, Prompto padded out to the kitchen, clad in the worn Glaive pullover and jeans that Ignis had set out for him on the bed, which _of course_ had already been put together with tight hospital corners. Seriously, Prompto really had to start doing more around the house...

Ignis was sipping a cup of steaming coffee as he waited for a couple of eggs to finish cooking, turning his head in Prompto's direction when he got closer. Habit _screamed_ for him to close the distance between them and plant a proper good morning kiss to his cheek, but Prompto chose to, instead, seat himself at the island without a word. It wasn't as if he thought he would fall to pieces, again, he just... Felt that maybe Ignis would be over touching him, right now.

"Are you feeling any better?"

Leaning forward, Prompto pillowed his head on his folded arms. Shit, he was ready for a nap.

"I'm still pregnant, so..."

Ignis didn't really laugh, he just sorta puffed air out his nose and took the frying pan off of the burner. "Well I wasn't exactly expecting it to go away quite so easily."

It was clearly meant to be a joke, but all it did was put an awful image in Prompto's head of a bloody miscarriage in the shower. He grimaced.

 _Go away._ It sounded more like he was talking about the Coeurl that had come to their campground, once, to greedily tear into their food supply. Gladiolus and Noctis wanted to chase it off, but Ignis had suggested that they simply wait it out, due to Noctis's back problems flaring up and their lack of curatives.

Speaking of Noctis...

"You... Didn't tell Noct, did you..?"

There was some shuffling at the counter while Ignis plated their breakfasts, and he could hear the slurping sound of him drinking the last of his coffee before he responded with, "Of course not. Until we decide on how to move forward, I don't feel it is it necessary to inform his Highness."

 _How to move forward..._

Prompto sighed. What happens, now? Did they have to go to a doctor before going to one of... _Those_ clinics? What if Ignis wanted to keep it? Did he even _want_ kids?

In the years they've been together, not _once_ did either of them ever bring up the concept of starting a family - they never had the _time_. During the Dark Years, it was a blessing just to live to see another day when they were both out hunting daemons, Prompto on his own and Ignis in a party with Iris and Gladiolus. And, when the sun rose, they had to rebuild an entire _kingdom_. Ignis helped Noctis with establishing a new government system, Gladiolus worked with Cor to establish a new Glaive and police system, and Prompto was in charge of managing the return of the refugees that had fled to Lestallum. The dust had only _just_ begun to settle, for them. When were they ever expected to have the time to properly sit down and sort out these kinds of details?

It didn't matter, now, he supposed. Now, they had little choice than to start ironing out what kind of future they wanted to share.

Porcelain clanked against the smooth counter top, and Prompto begrudgingly straightened up so Ignis could slide his breakfast in front of him. It was pretty simple, just avocado toast with a fried egg on each slice, and sriracha drizzled over the top. Ignis's eggs were scrambled, something about him not liking runny yolks, and he had sprinkled some paprika over the eggs in lieu of the sriracha. _"I prefer a more mild start to my day"_ he once told him, while guzzling down some of the most robust coffee blend Prompto had ever tasted (Seriously, Ebony didn't get the name _Ebony_ for nothing. That shit was a Dark Roast™).

Lowering himself onto the stool next to him, Ignis paused to take a long drink of his refilled mug. It was a souvenir Prompto had bought on the last day of the festival in Altissia, a small chocobo head that would turn from black to bright yellow when introduced to heat. It was meant for himself, but Ignis had started to use it more and more often since coming home, and it wasn't like Prompto was going to say "Hey, asshole, that's _my_ mug."

A heavy, no-pun-intended pregnant silence draped over the two of them. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them took bites of their food. They only sipped at their morning beverages, both waiting for the other to start.

Eventually, it was Prompto's voice that shattered the delicate quiet.

"What are we gonna do, Iggy..?"

"I should be the one asking _you_ that," he said, tone suspiciously conversational for how fucking huge of a situation this actually was, "What is it that you would like to do about this?"

Ifrit's _asscrack_ , he was talking like they were picking out _paint swatches_ for the living room. In fact, Prompto was nine _hundred_ percent sure that Ignis had been _way_ more stressed out when they chose to paint their new apartment, and he didn't even _see_ colors!"

Prompto couldn't bring himself to look up from his lap, to look at Ignis's face. "This is something that affects you, too, you know..." he mumbled.

What he wouldn't do to just go back in time and remind Ignis that _maybe_ he should wear a condom before giving Prompto some of the best orgasms of his life.

"While, yes, that is true, the decision is ultimately yours. I would much rather hear _your_ thoughts on the matter, than voice my own."

Prompto felt his jaw flex as he grit his teeth together, frustrated. Why did he sound so casual about this?! He sounded like he was just talking about who took out the trash, that night, or what to pick up from the grocery store! Wasn't he at _all_ affected by this?!

"I would not leave you, regardless of how you choose to proceed, if that is what you are worried about."

 _What?_ No - Prompto _hadn't_ thought about that, at _all_. The idea of Ignis leaving hadn't even crossed his mind, and that kind of passive reassurance only managed to only fan the flames irritation in his chest. He wasn't _that_ fucking insecure in their marriage, you pretentious son of a bitch.

"No, but... Thanks... I guess?" he muttered, finally snatching his now-soggy toast from the plate to take a vindictive bite out of it, only to freeze as his teeth sank through the layer of egg and into the avocado. There was a _lot_ of sriracha on this. It was just how he normally liked it, but... Weren't pregnant people not allowed to eat spicy food? Were they allowed to have caffeinated coffee, especially the kind of coffee that Ignis had poured for him? What about eggs? Were eggs okay for a fetus if they were runny, like this?

After a moment, he slowly bit through the bread, cautiously tearing it into his mouth to chew. Did... Did it matter? It wasn't like he was really planning to keep it, was he?

Wait - did Ignis already assume that he wouldn't want to keep it? Ignis planned out every little detail in his day planner, down to the time he would allot himself for a visit to the toilet during his lunch break, and if Prompto had lingering suspicions of how bad his breakfast could be for the fetus, then he knew that Ignis knew for a _fact_ that it was.

Like cold water over a fire, the thought snuffed out Prompto's anger. In its place, a sharp ache in his chest. The comments he had made, the almost monk-like calmness, the way he was approaching this whole situation...

So...

That was it, then.

He heard himself speaking before Prompto's mind even had a chance to catch up.

"I'll just get rid of it."

He could feel Ignis turn his face towards him, but he didn't dare look up from his lap. The corners of his eyes stung, and it was getting harder and harder to keep his breathing even. If he looked at him...

"Is that what you want?"

 _It's what_ _ **you**_ _want._

It was obvious that he didn't want to be a father but, like Prompto wouldn't tell him to stop using his mug, he knew that Ignis wouldn't _dare_ explicitly tell him that he wanted him to get an abortion. And Prompto wasn't about to force him into a fatherhood. Ignis had been forced into being Noctis's Chamberlain and future Chief Advisor as a child, when he had no say in the matter and no way to fully comprehend what responsibilities would be bestowed unto him. When Insomnia fell, it had been Ignis that had taken the reigns and developed a strategy for the group while the rest were wrought with grief.

His whole existence was just him being thrust into situations where he had to take care of everyone. Every aspect of his life had been out of his control, but Ignis took everything in stride, and... And Prompto couldn't be the one to do that to him, too.

"Yeah, 'course," Prompto tried to keep his voice even, but he knew it wasn't working, "I mean, I'll have to stop taking T, right? And you see how I get when I'm on my period - there's no way I'd be able to handle something like this."

He hopped up from his stool - or, rather, jerked out of it and nearly knocked it over - and walked as quickly as he could to the bedroom without breaking into a sprint. He grabbed his phone from where it had been left charging on the nightstand, and his wallet and keys, before returning to the kitchen.

"Actually, uh, I, uh, I'm just gonna go take care of it, right now -"

"Prompto -"

"So you can let Noct know that you can come in for that meeting thing about his trip to Niflheim."

" _Prompto_ -!" Ignis was jumping to his feet, but Prompto was already toeing his boots on.

"See ya later!"

"You can't _possibly_ -!"

Prompto slammed the door shut.

He bolted.


	2. Chapter 2

A shrill silence rang in Ignis's ears.

He stayed planted to where he stood in the middle of the kitchen, the hand hovering in front of him when he tried to stop Prompto from leaving having since fallen to his side. Time had ceased to exist for him, and he just stood in the kitchen as if he thought, if he just waited, Prompto would come back to have a rational conversation.

Never, in any of their arguments, had either of them walked out on each other. Perhaps, they would agree that they needed to take a break in different rooms to cool off, before their flaring tempers had a chance to get the better of them, but not _once_ had they ever just stormed out like that. Even so, Prompto had done so without so much as _thinking_ about it - he jumped from unsurety to committing to a decision in the blink of an eye, and rushed out before Ignis had so much as a moment to fully understand what was happening.

He had been crying.

This wasn't a panic attack, or an intense bout of anxiety. It's wasn't all rapid breaths, and fidgeting, and shaking hands.

Prompto was _hurting_.

He wasn't storming out on him, when he slammed the door behind him, he was _fleeing_.

From _him_.

The thought was... Well, Ignis didn't know _what_ to think of it. The last time he heard Prompto like that was the night Gladiolus had first suggested that, maybe, Noctis was never coming back from the Crystal. It had _crushed_ Ignis - to this day, he couldn't bear to even remember how agonized he had felt at the prospect of a life without Noctis - but, Prompto, he had made this little sound and, when he excused himself, he cried like his soul was being ripped from his body. It was suffering beyond even what Ignis could have imagined, and he prayed he would never again hear Prompto in so much pain.

Yet... Ignis had been the cause of it, this time, hadn't he?

He retraced his steps. He had tried to be as supportive as he could, given the situation, but the constant undercurrent of dread in his system had made keeping a clear head exceedingly difficult.

At first, the arrant joy he felt - sheer, unadulterated euphoria - towards the prospect of becoming a father had blindsided him almost as hard as the news itself. A _baby_! Prompto was carrying his _child_! He was going to be a father! In that moment, swept up in a surge of excitement and adoration, Ignis had wanted nothing more than to lay Prompto down and flutter sweet, cherishing kisses all over that precious bump. He wanted to wrap Prompto up in blankets, and give him even _more_ kisses, and pamper him endlessly until he felt like a _king_. Raising Noctis had turned out to be a success, with Noctis growing into an exceptional young man, even if you ignored his accomplishments as the True King. Without a doubt, Ignis _knew_ he could do it again!

Then, Prompto brought him back to reality.

As if his entire life was falling apart, Prompto had sobbed and trembled in his arms in abject _terror_ at the prospect of having to bear a child. He could still hear panicked his voice murmuring in his ear, asking how this could have happened, insisting that it _wasn't_ happening, and whispering _no, no, no, no_ , over and over, like a mantra.

That was when Ignis realized that this couldn't happen. Months ago, simply enduring a week-long menstrual cycle was enough to make Prompto skip out on his responsibilities - which he had literally _never_ done, in the entirety of his career in the Glaive - and second-guess his masculinity and Ignis's attraction to him. When he had to see his gynecologist, he always came home pale and would withdraw in on himself for the rest of the day. Seven or so months of pregnancy, where he would have to cease his testosterone injections and allow his body to become soft and feminine, all while experiencing mood swings, weight gain, and a host of other symptoms like morning sickness, would be nothing short of emotional torture, Ignis imagined.

Which was when he understood that Prompto would want to terminate the pregnancy, preferably as quickly as possible.

So, he pushed his feelings aside and did everything he could to exude an air of neutrality. He _refused_ to let his own desires influence Prompto from doing what would be best for him.

Even if it broke Ignis's heart.

Fighting against the heavy ball that had settled in the pit of his stomach, he had fixed them both a simple breakfast. He considered making something that would be easier on Prompto's stomach, which he was sure was still finicky, but he wasn't sure if it would be the best idea to so blatantly put his pregnancy in the spotlight. When they sat down to eat, he did what he could to deflect Prompto's question about what they should do. This wasn't a matter of what they should do - this was Prompto's decision.

 _Gods_ , did it hurt, though. He so desperately wanted to beg Prompto to keep it, to endure the hardships of pregnancy and give him a child, and he couldn't trust himself to do more than refuse to offer advice. If he tried to help him weigh the pros and cons of having the baby, Ignis knew he would fail to remain objective. He knew he wouldn't be capable of keeping his emotions from his voice.

Ignis turned back to the kitchen island and felt his way across the smooth surface to find his plate, then Prompto's. Neither of them had touched their food, with the exception of the single bite Prompto had taken. With the mind that he would heat it up in the toaster oven, later, Ignis took them back to the counter and reached for the cabinet containing their tupperware.

Did he overshoot and come off as standoffish? The way Prompto had rushed out... Was he eager to just get it over with, or did he... Did he want to keep it, but thought that Ignis wanted him to terminate it?

...

Ignis _hated_ this - this unpreparedness, this uncertainty that clung to his every thought. Back when he was at a loss for what hygiene products to purchase for his partner, he knew that he would later reflect on it and be able to laugh at the situation. But, _this_? This was _awful_. There was no silver lining, no shred of positivity to cling to.

Leaving their unfinished breakfasts on the counter, Ignis twisted around and sank down to the floor, back sliding down the heavy wood cabinets that _thunked_ when he dropped to the tile. The sun had shifted since Prompto left, casting a distinctly afternoon shadow across the kitchen. How long had Ignis been standing there, waiting for him like a fool?

Would he even be coming back?

Had he been expecting - hoping, maybe - for Ignis to stop him? To talk him out of it, like when he tried to break up with Ignis?

Would... Would he want a divorce, because Ignis didn't stop him?

Ignis felt suffocated by the idea. A life without Prompto would be worse than returning to a life without the sun. Prompto _was_ his sun. The hexatheon knew that Ignis loved Noctis and Gladiolus with all of his heart, and would gladly give up his life for theirs, but they were like an unfrosted shortcake straight from the oven. Sure, under the right circumstances, plain shortcake could be enjoyed on its own. Maybe you wanted something mild and light, something that would pair well with a bold coffee as a palate cleanser between sips. But Prompto was the sugar and spice and all things nice that gave his life excitement and pop. He was the sweet, fluffy frosting that brightened the cake and added an elegantly simple beauty to it. He was the slivers of tart strawberries hidden between the layers, providing something uniquely different that cut through the monotony of the plain vanilla flavor of the cake.

He couldn't bear the thought of living a life that didn't include Prompto - even worse, living a life that had Prompto in it, but forever out of his arms. Prompto was his forever, in every sense of the word. Their souls were bound together by a King of Lucis, so they may be together even after death. Their lives had been entwined by a commitment made before the Six. To not have that, to lose Prompto after everything they had accomplished, together...

The worst part was that Ignis could see it happening. Prompto would come home tonight and head straight to bed, claiming he wasn't hungry for dinner. The next day, he would pretend to be asleep while Ignis prepared himself to leave for work, then leave after his driver had picked him up. They would attempt to make conversation, but the pregnancy would be a wedge between them, forcing them apart. The damage would have already been done. They would spend less time together, share fewer laughs, until their day-to-day interactions were little more than pleasantries exchanged by distant acquaintances.

A tear rolled down his cheek, and Ignis realized he had begun to cry.

What did he _do_? Ignis could draft up a peace treaty by sundown, but he hadn't the faintest clue to where he should even _begin_ to fix this. If he called Prompto, what would he even say? No, don't get an abortion? Don't be brash? Don't make these kinds of decisions impulsively? That would be insulting and patronizing, even by Ignis's standards. He would be belittling Prompto's decision, acting as if he, the one that had gone and foolishly impregnated him, knew better than Prompto did.

What if he requested to at least be there with him, when it happened? Ignis could only imagined how afraid Prompto must be, terminating his pregnancy so soon after discovering it, in a cold doctor's office, all on his own. If this was what he truly wanted - or, at least, if he had his heart set on it - Ignis wanted to, at the very least, be able to hold his hand and provide what comfort he could while it happened. Ignis didn't want him to have to go through that by himself, with no one but a nurse to support him.

Yes... That... That would be acceptable.

With clumsy fingers, Ignis fished his cell from his pocket and activated the voice command.

"Moogle, call My Lil Birb."

The phone dinged, and voiced the command back to him.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

It sounded so hollow, so empty.

Four.

Just as Ignis was ready to hear Prompto's voicemail prompt, the fifth ring cut off.

 _"This is Argentum."_

Ignis closed his eye, dropping his head back against the cabinet. He wasn't crying. He sounded... Alright.

"Prompto."

 _"Oh, hey, Iggy... Sorry, I, uh, didn't really check the ID."_

He was sniffling.

He'd been crying.

"Are you alright?"

A pause.

 _"Um..."_

On the other end of the line, in the distance, he could hear the unmistakable growl of Gladiolus's voice asking, _"What does he want?"_

There was a rough scraping sound in Ignis's ear, probably from Prompto covering the mic as he responded with something he couldn't quite make out. Why was Gladiolus with him, and not at the Citadel? Surely, the King's Chief Advisor, the Commander of the Kingsglaive, and the Commander of the Crownsguard all being absent from their stations would put the Citadel in some sort of disarray. Noctis must be going grey, trying to keep up with the work being left to him.

 _"Yeah, I'm... I'm, uh, I guess I'm fine."_

"Gladiolus is with you?"

 _"Oh, yeah... Uh, they wouldn't let me, uh, get it done if I didn't have a ride."_

"I see."

The admission felt like Ignis was being speared through the heart by Ramuh, himself. His own husband, his _partner_ , would have rather had Gladiolus with him than ask Ignis for support.

"So, will I be seeing you, tonight?" Or would he be staying the night in one of the Citadel's many guest rooms, away from Ignis?

 _"I, uh, actually just got out, so me and Gladio are gonna grab a bite, and, uh, he'll drop me off after."_

It had already been done, then. Ignis had called him a hair too late, had hesitated just too long. There was no longer a child in Prompto's womb.

There never would be, again.

"I will see you soon, then," he whispered, "Tell Gladiolus to skip the seasoned fries, when he orders. He is getting much too old to keep ingesting all of that sodium."

"Uh... Yeah, sure. See ya."

The line went dead.

Ignis dropped his phone, uncaring of how it noisily clattered against the tile floor, and stared, unseeing, at the ceiling.

* * *

 _Three hours earlier_

"I'm sorry, sir, but it's office policy."

"But -!" Prompto gripped the counter hard enough for the skin under his nails to ache, "I can just call a cab!"

After leaving the apartment, Prompto had run for a solid five miles before he realized A) His OBGYN was across the Crown City, B) His dumbass forgot to put on socks before he left, and his boots were rubbing his heels raw, and C) He fucking _hated_ running in the snow. So, he hailed a taxi - there was no way in _hell_ he would call Noctis to have him send him a royal car - and rode it the rest of the way to the doctor's office.

That, apparently, wasn't good enough.

"Again, I'm _sorry_ , but you have to leave with someone you know well enough to take care of you."

"My husband will take care of me when I get home, though!"

Or, at least, Prompto hoped he would. They hadn't exactly left things off on the best note.

"But a stranger could take advantage of you while you're coming off of the painkillers. I'm sorry, sir, but the rule is there to keep our patients safe."

Which was all well and nice, but that didn't give Prompto a whole ton of options! If he couldn't take a taxi home, what was he supposed to do?! He couldn't call one of the drivers they had on-call at the Citadel (well, he could, but he'd be damned if his co-workers started gossiping about this, about _Ignis,_ because a driver had loose lips), and it wasn't like he could call Noctis, the _King_ of frickin' _Lucis_ , away from his work when his right hand man wasn't there to pick up the slack, and Gladiolus wasn't exactly the most sensitive guy on the planet. That really only left Cindy, who was all the way out in Hammerhead, and Nyx, who was more Gladiolus's pal than Prompto's.

"But..." Prompto's voice grew tight, almost squeaking, as desperation coiled in his gut, "I guess... I'll come back, then..."

The nurse behind the counter looked apologetic, truly, but her sympathy didn't do anything to help his situation. Her sympathy didn't make him less pregnant. It didn't give him safe passage home.

Now, what? Did he go home to face Ignis? Did he sneak over to the Citadel, and sleep there, for the night?

An icy blast of wind cut across Prompto's face as he stepped out of the office, and Prompto was reminded of how he was only wearing jeans and a well-worn hoodie to shield him from the cold. Wrapping his arms around his body, he dropped to a crouch next to the door, burying his face in his knees. There were no more tears left to shed, but that didn't stop him from going through the motions of crying for what felt like the millionth time, that morning. He was tired. He felt sick. He was scared. He missed his mom.

A ragged gasp ripping through his chest. He wanted to feel her soft, pretty hands holding his, her thumbs stroking his palms like she did when he was little. He wanted her hair to fall around him when she hugged him, like a curtain protecting him from the rest of the world. He wanted to smell her flowery perfume, and hear her smooth, velvety voice telling him that everything would be okay, that she'd help him, that he didn't have to do this alone, that he was her special baby boy...

Through the sounds of his own crying, and the fresh gust of wind rushing in his ears, he almost didn't hear his phone go off. Prompto reached for his pocket, but hesitated when he saw the name that popped up on the caller ID. After a moment of consideration, he dragged the phone icon to the side to answer it.

"Hello..?"

Silence.

"Gladio..?"

 _"You okay?"_

"Yeah, 'course!" Prompto wiped his nose with the back of his hand, and sat up a little straighter to help his voice sound lighter, and less raspy, "What's goin' on, big guy?"

Gladiolus didn't sound even remotely convinced. _"I was gonna ask if you wanted to get lunch."_

From the anxiety or the baby, Prompto wasn't sure, but just thinking about eating made his stomach lurch. "Oh, uh, sure! Wanna head to the usual place? I'll meet you there."

 _"No. Tell me what's the matter."_

 _Shit._

"Nothin', I'm just a little tired. Didn't get a bunch o'sleep."

Prompto had gotten used to pretending that he was okay when he wasn't. It came with the territory of being the lonely fat kid. It came with being transgender, and gay. It came with being a Nif-created Magitek soldier that had to take great pains to hide his origins from his precious friends. Hell, once he got into the right head space, he could even almost convince himself that he was a-okay. But the sight that Gladiolus let out? The sound of disappointment? That was enough to crack through his resolve.

 _"I'm not gonna force you to tell me anythin', but don't fuckin' lie to me, Prom."_

"I'm..." The lie was right there, on the tip of his tongue. _I'm not, really! I'm fine! I'll see you at the diner, kay?_

But it wouldn't come.

"I'm -" he tried again, nearly choking on the sob that tried to wrench free of his throat.

 _"Tell me where you are. I'm comin' to get ya."_

"I'm... At my gynecologist's office..."

He could _hear_ the way Gladiolus froze. _"Everything okay?"_

He couldn't do it. He could try to pretend that everything was alright.

Prompto let his facade shatter, and started crying all over again. He told him about everything that had happened, that morning, from being woken up by his morning sickness, to seeing his baby bump, to Ignis's indifference towards the whole ordeal. He explained how Ignis didn't want him to keep the baby, and refused to have any part in the discussion of what they should do, and how he assumed Prompto was going to get an abortion before they'd even talked about it.

 _"That piece of shit,"_ Gladiolus hissed, _"You're still at the doctor's?"_

"Th-they... They wouldn't... Let me... 'Cos I -I don't... I don't have a ride..." he managed, around a fit of sobs.

 _"You stay there, then. I'm already on my way."_

Prompto buried his face in his knees again, wishing he could just curl into himself until he disappeared. "But... Noct..."

 _"Is a big boy that can handle himself. He won't even notice I'm gone."_

"But, your work -"

 _"Is pretty much done. I'll deal with the rest tomorrow."_

"But -"

 _"Send me the goddamn address, Prompto."_

True to his word, Gladiolus's car was peeling into the parking lot less than twenty minutes later. The OBGYN office was a minimum of a forty minute drive from the Crown City center, where the CItadel was, so he could only imagine how many laws Gladiolus had broken during his travels. As it was, Prompto wasn't sure if he was glad to see him or not. An evil voice in his head told him that he was being a pest, that Gladiolus was only here out of obligation, that he was interfering with his work -

Until Gladiolus rushed over to him, hauled him to his feet by his armpits, and crushed Prompto to his chest.

In the twenty years they had known each other, they had only hugged a total of three times. The first was when Prompto came out to him. The second was when Gladiolus came out to _him_. The third was when they were reunited when Noctis returned from the Crystal.

Gladiolus smelled like... Like nature. He smelled like wood, and grass, and old campfires, and musk. It wrapped around Prompto's body, enveloping him, like the warmth that emanated from his skin. Gladiolus was always so _warm_. He could remember him being like a space heater in their tent when they were younger, steadily heating the air around them on the colder nights they shared together until they no longer had to cuddle for warmth.

He kissed the top of Prompto's head, and _that_ kind of took him by surprise. Because, well, he just wasn't that affectionate of a guy. It wasn't a bad thing, he just kinda kept a friendly distance from everyone always respected their personal space. Kissing was more Noctis's thing.

Prompto didn't mind, though. Right then, he needed... Something. He needed to not feel alone. He needed to feel cared about. He needed his friend.

"Thank you..."

He almost didn't think the Gladiolus had heard him, but, then, he squeezed him a little tighter and rested his cheek on top of his hair, which was still an unruly mess of curls and cowlicks. They stayed like that for - Prompto had no idea. Five, ten minutes? Gladiolus seemed more than content with holding him to his broad chest, his arms like an iron cage around Prompto's body, and Prompto was too exhausted, too raw, to do more than indulge in the security of his best friend. When they finally returned to Insomnia to rebuild, Noctis once told Prompto that there was a period where he couldn't go to sleep unless Gladiolus was there to share his bed, too haunted by his nightmares to sleep without his Shield, his lover, wrapped around him.

Being held like this, it made Prompto understand why.

Eventually, when Prompto no longer felt like the wind could push him over, they parted. Gladiolus still stayed close, close enough for their bodies to feel as if they were echoing one another, but they were no longer embracing.

They remained silent, until Gladiolus put a firm hand on his shoulder.

"So... You're really pregnant, huh?"

Prompto hadn't realized that his hands were holding his belly, his little bump. He folded his arms over his chest self-consciously, and nodded.

"What, now, then?" Gladiolus didn't sound pushy, or even curious. It was weird, as if he were awaiting orders. "What do you wanna do?"

"I..." Prompto bit his lip. He didn't know what he wanted to do - he hadn't had time, not when he was still processing everything. But...

"I can't... I don't think I can be a dad, Gladio," he nearly whispered, "I mean - if we adopted, maybe, but... Not... Like this."

Presently, as strange as it was, Prompto actually... _Didn't_ feel dysphoric - _at all._ He didn't feel like he had to prove his masculinity, or hide in his apartment fucking his partner with a strap-on until he was feeling manly enough to face the world. But, he knew that, _later_ , it wouldn't be the same. He wouldn't have this same confidence, not when his body began to redistribute fat to his hips and breasts, not when his face was soft and less angular, the way Ignis liked it, not when it would be impossible for him to pass as male.

Not when... He wouldn't have Ignis's support.

"So, you wanna go through with this?" Gladiolus released his shoulder to gesture at the door to the doctor's office. When Prompto hesitated, he added, "We can come back, later, if you want. Don't gotta do it today."

Prompto shook his head, glancing at the door. "I just wanna get it over with, ya know?"

He promised Iggy he'd get it done today.

With an understanding nod, Gladiolus asked, "You want me to go in, with you?"

When he turned his face back to finally look at his face for the first time since he showed up, Prompto felt like his heart might burst. Gladiolus's eyes were normally sharp and keen, fierce like the eye of the eagle tattooed to his chest. That wasn't to say they were unkind, but you could tell that he was always taking in his surroundings, memorizing details and staying aware of anything that could change. Now, though, they were _soft_. _Caring_. So full of a warmth and kindness that Prompto hadn't seen since they were both confused, scared kids in their early twenties still trying to figure themselves out. It left him speechless, but he still nodded. Yes, he wanted Gladiolus to be with him. He... He didn't want to be alone.

"Alright. Whenever you're ready."

Gladiolus waited for Prompto to turn back towards the door, stepping around him to grab the handle and hold it open for him. Prompto muttered a thanks, even though he knew it wasn't really needed, and walked back into the artificially heated building.

It was a weekday, so there weren't a whole ton of people packed into the waiting room, but it didn't go unnoticed that every single person around them - with the exception of the nurse at the receptionist's desk - were pregnant women. _Very_ pregnant women. They all had big, round bellies, clearly expecting to carry their children to term. And they were all _very_ cis.

If Prompto didn't feel out of place, before, he definitely did, now.

Their curious eyes followed him as he approached the desk, all silently wondering what two men were doing in a doctor's office that exclusively catered to the female reproductive system. It wasn't as if husbands or boyfriends were allowed to get prescriptions for their wives, given that you had to chat with your doctor and undergo a pelvic exam before being approved for more birth control (hence, why Prompto never went on it, too squeamish at the idea of someone looking up his snatch every three months). Gladiolus's presence wasn't necessarily helping matters, either. While Prompto was small and blonde and - if he kept his head down and wore a fitted shirt that accentuated his unbound chest - could probably just pass himself off as an androgynous girl, Gladiolus was a massive human being with hulking muscle mass and a thick beard growing on his chin, sticking out like a sore thumb in his sharp black Kingsglaive uniform. In fact, Prompto wouldn't have been surprised if a couple of the other patients didn't recognize the mountainous man that accompanied King Noctis Lucis Caelum during his official outings.

Gladiolus quickly caught on to the way Prompto's eyes kept flitting around the room, but never quite looking directly at the women around them, and shifted around him so that he stood in the way of their questioning glances.

The nurse's eyes widened a bit at the sight of Gladiolus, but quickly turned her attention to Prompto, a welcoming smile on her pretty face.

"I see you have someone with you!" she lowered her voice when Prompto flinched at how loud (well, she wasn't loud, but it was a quiet office!) her greeting was, "Will he be taking you home, after the procedure?"

Prompto nodded, biting at his very raw lip, "Yeah. He's a friend."

"Good, I'm glad to hear that," she looked genuinely happy for him, like she knew how badly he needed this to happen, "Will he also be with you during the process?"

He stiffened, suddenly unsure of what Gladiolus meant when he offered to come in with him. Did he just intend to sit out here, in the waiting room, while Prompto was with the doctor? Did he only want to be with Prompto while he spoke with her, then retreat when she took him into the room for the procedure?

Prompto wanted to look to him, to ask him what he wanted, but he was too afraid of putting him on the spot.

That was went a warm, heavy hand settled over the small of his back.

"Yeah, I'll be with him."

Prompto's chest wanted to burst.

"Great! In that case, here, go ahead and fill out this form and I'll put you in so the doctor knows you're here." The nurse passed a clipboard over the counter, a colorfun pen attached to it by a fuzzy piece of yarn.

They claimed a couple of seats in the corner of the waiting room, and sat down. Prompto didn't miss how Gladiolus shot warning glances at anyone who made the mistake of getting caught staring, but he just focused on filling out the form. It was pretty standard, just asking for his insurance information and any notable medical changes since his last visit, just to keep their records up to date. Once it was filled out, Gladiolus took it to the counter for him, the sound of his uniform rubbing together almost too loud in the oppressively silent waiting room. There was a small flatscreen showing the news on the wall, but it was silent.

Neatly trimmed fingers clacking along a keyboard.

A sniff.

A magazine page being turned over.

Prompto fidgeted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. It was one of those generic wood-frame chairs with cheap leather seats, just enough to not be as uncomfortable as hard plastic would but clearly not meant to be sat in for more than a few minutes. He slouched with his knees spread, but it made a crick start to form in his neck so he tried sitting up with one knee crossed over the other. That made his hips ache, so he shifted his leg so just his ankle rested over his knee, but that put his folded knee at an awkward angle so he put it back down on the floor. He folded his arms over his chest, like Gladiolus. Unfolded them. Leaned one elbow on the arm rest. Jiggled his knee. Sat up straight. Looked up to watch the TV. Went back to staring at the floor.

Rustling clothing as a woman shifted in her seat.

Gladiolus's steady breathing.

Someone clearing their throat.

"Prom."

Gladiolus's quiet voice, albeit still as rough as gravel crunching beneath tires, caught his attention.

"You're makin' me nervous."

His leg stilled.

"... Sorry."

"It's fine." Gladiolus reached between them to cover Prompto's hand in his.

How stupid. Prompto was thirty-four and still needed someone to hold his hand when he got nervous.

He hated himself.

... He wished it was Ignis's hand.

Thankfully, this was a shared practice, so the patients in the waiting room were split up between three different doctors. It was only maybe fifteen, twenty minutes of waiting before his name was called and, by then, there were only two other people in the waiting room left to eye him suspiciously as he followed a nurse through the door that led them into a narrow hallway, to the same room he typically saw when seeing his doctor for yearly check up. The nurse asked him a few questions about his basic health, logging his answers on a tablet, then left him and Gladiolus alone so they could wait for the doctor.

The silence was almost unbearable.

When the doctor gave a cursory knock before entering, Prompto nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Hello, Prompto!" his doctor sang, dropping into a rolling chair, "How are we, today?"

What the fuck kind of question was that? "Um... Okay, I guess?"

She turned her smile to Gladiolus, who was standing next to him, "Is this your husband?" she extended her hand, "Hi, I'm Doctor Atlas."

"Gladiolus Amicitia," he returned the handshake, albeit awkwardly, "I'm a friend."

There was a brief stiffness in her expression that told them she had understood her err, but she took it in stride and kept her smile as neutral and welcoming as before, "My mistake, Mister Amicitia." She turned her eyes back to Prompto, who had start to feel like a heavy anvil was pressing down on his chest at the reminder that Ignis was home. "So, Prompto, tell me what's been going on. You're pregnant?"

Prompto started twirling a lock of hair around his finger, head bowed so he didn't have to meet her gaze. He nodded, suddenly wishing that Gladiolus wasn't here for this part.

But he wasn't gonna kick him out, so.

"Yeah. Found out this morning."

"Do you have the test with you?"

"Uh..." His cheeks warmed, and he pressed his legs together so he was taking up less space, "I didn't take a test."

He heard the sound of pen on paper as the doctor wrote something down, "Alright, that's fine. So, if you didn't take a test, how did you find out you're pregnant?"

There was an understandable suspicion clinging to her words, but he knew his doctor well enough to know that she wasn't about to chastise him, or look down on him. Even if he didn't like why he had to keep going to see a gynecologist, at least he could like his doctor. She was nice, and understanding.

"I'm showing," he said plainly, fingers drifting to his abdomen.

"Would you mind me taking a look at it?"

Well, it wasn't like he thought he could go through with this without _someone_ looking at it. Prompto stood up from his chair, lifting the hem of the pullover up so it was bunched up under his chest.

Her eyebrows disappeared underneath her bangs, as if she wasn't actually expecting to see anything worth mentioning, and she leaned forward in her chair to experimentally run the tips of her fingers over the curve, applying only just enough pressure to gauge its firmness. Gladiolus also wore an expression of surprise; if Prompto had been paying any attention to him, he would have noticed how his fingers twitched by his sides, wanting to reach out and touch.

"Yep, that's definitely a pregnancy belly," she withdrew her hand and let him drop his sweatshirt, "Do you have any idea how far along you are?"

"Um... Two weeks - I mean months. Two months. Ish."

The doctor frowned a little, eyes glued to his stomach, "Are you sure?"

Prompto shifted uncomfortably, feeling a bit put off by how she was gesturing for him to lift his sweatshirt again to she can get another look at him. "I mean... That's the last time I was on the receiving end, so, yeah?"

If Gladiolus was bothered by his need to specify that he typically topped when they had sex, he didn't show it. Rather, he looked more focused on what the doctor had to say, in response, than Prompto.

"When were you last the receptive partner before that, though?"

"Like... I dunno, six months? He's kinda a pillow princess."

Okay, that kinda slipped out. He was starting to stress out, because the doctor was staring at his bump like she was waiting for some kind of Chestburster to explode out of his belly, and his filter was starting to take a backseat. Gladiolus snorted, slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle a fit of giggles, body practically vibrating with restrained laughter where he leaned against the wall. Prompto heard him whisper "Of _course_ he is" under his breath, and he _maybe_ chuckled with him.

Well, until he realized that the doctor wasn't joining in on the laughter. Prompto started to get nervous, then.

"Is... Something wrong?"

The question was enough to sober Gladiolus back up, but the intensity in which she was studying him was quickly replaced by her Grade A Comforting Smile. "No, not at all. You're just showing a _lot_ for someone who's only in the seven or eight week range." She stood up from her chair and walked over to the same kind of table he laid on during his normal visits, a mechanical medical table that would rise and lower depending on what button you pushed, and drew a clean sheet of paper over it from the roll that was attached at the head rest. "Come lay down so we can get a look at how far along you are."

He hesitated, butterflies forming in his stomach, "But... I just told you."

"Yes, but we need to know what week you are at, that way we can determine what options are available for you."

Options.

 _Abortion_ options.

Prompto felt his muscles lock up, unwilling to move from where he was stuck in place. No, no, no, this was getting too _real_ \- this wasn't just _talking_ about it, this was -!

"Come on, come lie down," the doctor patted the cream leather cushion invitingly, but not even her pleasant tone was enough to ease his skyrocketing anxiety.

No, he didn't _want_ to! He wanted to go _home_!

Gladiolus's hands returned to him, this time at his shoulders. He started massaging his thumbs over the curve of his muscles, following up to his neck, until they pressed to the base of his skull, and started to slide back down.

"Relax, Prom," he murmured, "If you decide to keep it, you still gotta know how old it is, so you know when you're due."

The doctor nodded, a quick glance in Gladiolus's direction to silently give thanks, "He's right. We just want to look to see how far along into the pregnancy you are. You won't have to make any decisions, today, if you don't want to."

He watched her roll over a little cart with a monitor and some wires attached to it. A sonogram. For some reason, he was kinda thinking that she was gonna start, like, reaching up inside of him to feel the fetus, like she did with his ovaries during a pelvic exam.

Holy shit, he was fucking _retarded_.

He hopped onto the bed, carefully scooting back so that he didn't mess up the paper too much, and laid down. After a moment, he remembered to pull his hoodie back up.

The clear gel she squeezed onto his belly wasn't as cold as he thought it was going to be, but he still flinched when it came in contact with his skin. In an instant, Gladiolus was by his side, one hand on his shoulder and another twining their fingers together. Distantly, Prompto figured that this is the most Gladiolus has touched him in the twenty years they'd known each other.

He watched the doctor stick the... Thing, the seeing-sonogram-stick-thing, in the goop, pressed a button, and slowly started smearing around. The monitor wasn't turned towards him (probably out of courtesy, given that he had told the receptionist that he was looking to terminate the pregnancy), so he had to rely on watching her face to figure out what was happening. When that same surprised look returned, he felt his stomach start to drop.

Why did she look like that? Why did she keep going back to certain parts of his belly? Why was she so quiet? Why wasn't she _saying_ anything?!

"Well, that explains a lot."

 _What_ explains a lot?!

"You're carrying triplets."

"What?!" Gladiolus and Prompto both asked in unison, though Gladiolus looked much less horrified than Prompto imagined he did.

The doctor finally turned the monitor to face him when he started to sit up and crane his neck, and pointed at one big black splotch and another smaller one next to it. "You have two identical twins, here," she tapped the larger black space, pointing out two white globs inside of it, "And another fetus, here," she tapped the glob inside of the smaller space, "It looks like you are about ten weeks in. Would you like to hear their heartbeats?"

Pompto nodded so frantically that he felt his brain bouncing around like a bean inside a maraca. The doctor pressed another button, and readjusted the sensor thing to find the right angle. Meanwhile, Prompto stared at the screen, perfectly still. They didn't really look like much of anything - just weird, misshapen blobs on a screen - but, the closer he looked, he was pretty sure he could start to make out little baby features. Little fat heads, namely.

Then, she hit the right angle, and Prompto's breath was gone.

 _fumvum fumvum fumvum fumvum_

It didn't sound like a real heartbeat, more like a... Like the chug-a-chug of a train. But through a vacuum, or something, and maybe just a tad slower. But... That was its _heartbeat_...

She moved the sensor again, this time more to the upper right part of the bump, until she found the next angle to get the heartbeat.

"This one is a little louder, because it's closer. This is the first twin."

 _fumvum fumvum fumvum_

"And this is the second." She angled it more to the side, down towards his ribs. The pleasant lightness to her voice was gone, and Prompto couldn't bring himself to focus on the sound of the final heartbeat as he dragged his eyes from the monitor to look at her face.

She was frowning.

Something was wrong.

Why was she frowning?

Why were her eyebrows set like that?

What was wrong with his babies?!

"You don't look happy," Gladiolus pointed out for him.

"Well..." she paused to scratch her wrist, under the plain leather watch she wore, "Do you see how the twins here are sharing the same amniotic sac?" Tapping the larger splotch, she continued with, "This is what we call monoamniotic monochorionic twins. It's extraordinarily rare to see in triplets - about one in a million."

"It's... Bad?" Prompto's voice was shaking with the rest of his body, and he squeezed Gladiolus's hand.

"It by no means implies that they're unhealthy, or that there's anything wrong with them," she clarified, sensing his rising worry, "It just makes this an extremely high-risk pregnancy, for all three of them."

Next to him, Gladiolus shifted, "High-risk, how?"

"Well, for the twins, it's almost guaranteed that their cords will become entangled, or one will compress the other's and cut off their oxygen and nutrients. There is also the risk of twin-to-twin transfusion symptom -"

"What..." he swallowed thickly, "What's that?"

"It's when one twins gets all the blood flow from the placenta, while the other basically starves," Gladiolus answered for her.

"I wouldn't put it _exactly_ like that, but, that's about the gist of it," she confirmed, "There's also a heightened risk of Twin Reversed Arterial Perfusion sequence, which a variant of TTTS where one twin is relatively normal whereas the other is severely deformed - usually without a head, heart, or both. This is on top of any normal, more common birth defects, like one having a hole in their heart, or a club foot. And, like with most triplets, they will have to be born premature through a caesarean section."

He felt cold. He was freezing. Panic had long since begun to squeeze down on his throat, and his whole head was starting to hurt from the building pressure of wanting to cry.

"Is... Is there -" he drew in a ragged, shaking breath that was trying to turn into a sob, "Can we... Do...?"

Prompto made a small, frightened noise in the back of his throat when the doctor's face only darkened, turning almost pitying.

"Should you decide to go through with the pregnancy, it is generally suggested that we perform a selective reduction, where we remove the twin fetuses from your uterus. Removing one of the twins is extremely risky, and brings on its own set of potential complications, including the medication used during the procedure causing defects and disabilities in the surviving twin. We could remove the singleton to improve the odds of the twins but, given the nature of the situation, it would still be a high risk pregnancy. Objectively, the singleton has the best survival rate on its own."

Prompto's eyes darted back to the screen. He covered his mouth with the hand not holding Gladiolus's, tears somehow falling freely when he had been convinced that he had run out. His chest heaved, then convulsed with a jerky stream of rapid sobs. By the time his stomach had been wiped clean, and Gladiolus had dragged him into a sitting position, Prompto was crying so hard that he felt like his lungs would burst.

Gladiolus's arms wrapped around his back, pressing their chests flush in his embrace. He pressed a second hiss to his hair while Prompto screamed into his chest, his wails muffled only by the fabric of his uniform. He didn't bother with useless apologies. He didn't try to tell him that everything was going to work out. In a horrified silence, as he ached for his best friend, Gladiolus could only stand next to him and hold him as tightly as possible.

Prompto could hardly feel it. He could hardly feel anything, over the nausea swirling in his gut. Over the way his chest felt like it might split open at any moment. Over how unbearable, how totally overwhelming, this pain felt.

Kill two to save one.

Risk losing them all when one died.

Risk losing them all when they're born with lethal deformities and developmental problems.

Kill one to, hopefully, save two.

Risk forcing them to live with life-altering deformities and developmental problems.

Kill them all, and save them from suffering before it can happen.

Prompto wasn't sure of how much time had passed. He didn't know how long ago the doctor had left to give them their privacy. He didn't know how long he sat there on the edge of the table, clinging to Gladiolus's body and slobbering all over his uniform as he begged the gods to just let him have this one thing. He couldn't have his parents, he couldn't have a normal life, he had to suffer through his childhood as an outcast to even the outcasts - he would endure all of Ardyn's torture all over again for the rest of his life if he could just have _this_ , if he could just have his _babies!_

And the worst of it was that _Ignis wasn't there._

Everything was painful. All of him hurt. Every inch of Prompto's being, down to the marrow of his bones, ached.

After so long, though, his body had to give up. By no means did an ounce of his grief leave him, but he could no longer continue howling into Gladiolus's jacket. He just couldn't do it. It took too much energy that he no longer had. His arms were too heavy to hold up, so they fell down Gladiolus's front until his hands were dropping into his lap. Prompto whimpered and moaned against his chest, but it was a far cry from the hysterical yowling from before. Not once did Gladiolus let him go.

He could hear their heartbeats echoing in his head, even over the sound of his blood rushing through his ears.

"I... I ca... I can't..."

"You don't gotta do anything, right now," Gladiolus whispered into his hair, "I can take you home. Talk to Iggy. Figure out what you wanna do."

"I mean... I... I ca..." Prompto had to take a moment to catch his breath, though it stuttered around a residual sob, "I have to _try_..."

Now, Gladiolus loosened his hold so he could cup the side of his head. He didn't try to guide Prompto's face up, he just... Held him.

"You wanna keep 'em? All three?"

Prompto nodded, "I can't... I ca-can't just... _Gladio_ -" _sob_ "- they're my _children_... They're - they're my..." he broke off into another fit of sobbing, or the most sobbing that he could manage with his waning energy.

Gladiolus took him by the shoulders, stepping back just enough to be able to look down at Prompto's red, puffy, wet mess of a face.

"Is this what you want?"

Prompto met his gaze, though he could hardly see him in his blurry vision.

"More than _anything_..."

His strong hands squeezed Prompto's shoulders, and he drew him in for another hug.

"Alright. Then we'll tell Doc that you wanna keep 'em, then we're gonna go get a bite to eat because we gotta fatten you up if your skinny ass is gonna be carryin' _three babies_."

Somehow, that managed to draw a small, weak laugh from Prompto. He drew back to wipe at his, well, everything. His mouth and chin were covered in drool, his eyes and cheeks were stained with tears, and there was a steady stream of snot flowing from his nose. Prompto had to use both sleeves and the neck of his shirt to get himself cleaned up, not even noticing the tissue dispenser on the small counter.

"Whattaya know, I worked so hard to lose all that weight so I was good enough to meet Noct..." he sniffed, wiping his nose again, "Now I gotta get fat again, _because_ I met him."

"You're gonna be cute as shit, though," Gladiolus smiled and clapped him on the shoulder, "Like a little pregnant chocobo."

Prompto snorted, which was gross as fucking hell, right now. "Little? I'm gonna be _huge_."

Gladiolus ruffled his hair, then, just as the doctor returned. Whatever airy mood they shared vanished into thin air, replaced by the somber reminder of just how perilous the situation was. She gave them both a hesitant stare, before finding her seat in the same rolling chair as earlier. Prompto took a moment to collect himself, combing his fingers through his messy hair and trying to pat his face to squish away his puffiness.

"Prompto, before we start, again, I want to apologize," she admitted, "Seeing MoMo twins in a set of triplets took me by surprise, I and dumped a lot of information on you without stopping to consider about how it would scare you. I handled that poorly, and I am truly sorry."

... Oh. Well, he hadn't been expecting that. He met her gaze long enough to nod in understanding, though, now that his throat had been given a chance to come down from crying, he was too numb and too sore to verbalize anything.

"Do you feel up to discussing your options, right now?" she asked in a voice that sounded every bit as sincerely compassionate as he knew she was, "Or would you like to go home, first? If you'd like, I can recommend an excellent counselor to speak with."

Prompto shook his head at the idea of going home, first, before realizing that she probably didn't know what he was rejecting. "N... No. I want to keep them."

A beat.

"You want to go through with carrying all three to term?"

He nodded. "I know... I came here to get an abortion, but... Seeing them, and _hearing_ them..." his voice cracked, and holy shit _how was he still crying?_

"I understand, but I do have to stress that, even if I regret the way I explained it, everything I said before was true. This will be an _extremely_ high risk, potentially _very_ difficult pregnancy, and no one will have any idea if you being on testosterone for so long will have any effect on the fetuses' developments. If you plan to keep both the MoMo twins, and the singleton, there is a good chance that one, or all three, could die, or could be born with severe defects or developmental complications. Is this something you want to risk?"

Again, Prompto nodded. He _had_ to. He wasn't sure what about seeing the triplets changed his mind, but he knew that he had to at least _try_.

"Alright, then I am going to give you the number to my colleague's office. He's a perinatologist - a doctor that specializes in high risk pregnancies." As she spoke, she tore a piece of paper from her clipboard and began scribbling on it. "I'm also going to refer you to the counselor I mentioned, just in case, and a nutritionist that can help you with making sure you're getting all the right nutrients. They're all excellent doctors, and they're in your insurance network."

Along with the paper, she plucked a few pamphlets from the wall and passed them over. There were, like, five. Astrals. And they were all about different things: diet, lifestyle changes, signs of emergencies...

"Right now, though, there are some routine tests to run. It's all pretty standard stuff that I do for every other first-time pregnancy visit." That friendly smile had returned to her face, and some of the tension in Prompto's body began to ebb. "I want to take a couple of blood samples to check your levels and make sure everything's normal, and I also wanna run some screening to rule out the possibility of you carrying any defect genes. It'll be a good idea to screen your partner, too, so I'll let the perinatologist know to run it, when you see him."

Well, even if he was starting to feel a little better, Prompto's head was starting to spin from the informational overload. He watched her stand up from her chair, scrawling something onto her clipboard, and idly wondered why she didn't use a tablet like the nurses.

"I also want to perform a pelvic exam, so you can go ahead and take off your pants and boxers while I go get everything ready."

Almost comically, that was what made Prompto grimace. He hated pelvic exams - pretty much everyone with a vagina did.

The doctor caught his frown, and patted his hand on the way out.

When the door closed, Prompto stared at the floor.

"That was... A lot." Gladiolus muttered.

He huffed out a half-hearted laugh, "Yeah, no kidding. Were you taking notes?"

"Nope."

"Shit, me either."

They both chuckled quietly before Prompto shimmied off the table so he could get naked from the waist down, grabbing the cotton gown the doctor had left on the counter for him at some point. A thought struck him as he climbed back up, not bothering to tie the gown in case she wanted to slip under it for a quick breast exam, too.

"What... What do I do about Iggy..?"

Gladiolus turned back around, frowning thoughtfully. "Yeah, I was kinda wonderin' somethin'. Did he actually _say_ he didn't want you to have the baby? Or - _babies?_ "

He fidgeted, thumbing the gown. "No. He just seemed... Kinda mad, I guess? He wouldn't talk about it. Basically just told me to figure it out without him. And, you know how he's, like, super crazy careful about diet, right?"

"Mhm."

"Well, he just... Didn't care about what I ate. He let me drink Ebony with sugar in it, and he cooked me some runny eggs with hot sauce. That's, like, the trifecta of stuff pregnant people shouldn't have, isn't it?"

Gladiolus stared at him for a moment.

"You think maybe he was just as overwhelmed as you were? I mean, really - if I found out Noct was pregnant - don't gimme that look, it's just an example!"

Prompto couldn't help it. He snickered at the thought of Noctis waddling around, all fat and preggo.

"But, yeah, if Noctis told me we were gonna have a kid, my first thought wouldn't really be to make him a baby-friendly breakfast. I'd kinda be busy losin' my mind. And, I know Iggy makes a big deal about nutrition, but I kinda feel like maybe he was panicking a little, too."

Maybe... Okay, maybe Gladiolus had a point, there. "But that doesn't explain why he wouldn't tell me what he wanted me to do."

Gladiolus eyed him. "He knew it wasn't his decision to make."

"But it affects him just as me, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but how shitty do you think he'd feel if he thought he guilted you into having a kid for him, or an abortion?"

...

...

...

Prompto leaned back into the backrest, closing his swollen eyes.

"I'm an idiot."

Gladiolus laughed and patted him on the knee.

"Like, remember that huge Cockatrice we found in Cleigne that got stuck in a tree because Noct threw that fishing lure? That's how stupid I feel."

"Yeah, well, you both kinda handled it like shit. Just talk to Iggy when you get home."

Prompto frowned at the ceiling, "What if he wanted me to get an abortion, though..?"

"I really don't think he does but, if he gives you any shit, you know there's a room for you at the Citadel." Gladiolus grunted a laugh. "Shit, Noct'd probably give you his royal chambers."

Prompto grinned at the thought of Noctis frittering about, insisting that he take one of the guest rooms so Prompto and his babies could take advantage of his sinfully luxurious bathtub, and equally as luxurious bed. "Dude, he's gonna lose his _mind_ when he finds out."

"No, _shit_. You're probably gonna give him baby fever, too. He's gonna bitch and moan and throw a fit about how we'll have to find a surrogate so our kids can grow up together."

"Then he'll get all competitive and get, like, ten of them just so he doesn't fall behind."

Gladiolus barked out a real laugh, at that. "Oh, fuck _me_ , he _will_."

They shared a laugh at the thought of him having some kind of pseudo harem full of their IVF mothers, and how Gladiolus was probably going to have to reign him in on the gifts because they both _knew_ that Noctis was going to shower him with presents like he was his sugar daddy, or something.

When they floated down from their temporary high, Prompto swung his legs back and forth over the edge of the table, his hands dipping under the gown and hoodie so he could hold his bump.

"Have you two ever really talked about it, though? Having kids?"

Gladiolus hummed, nodding, and finally claimed one of the chairs against the wall. "Yeah. We've both got a responsibility to produce heirs, and Iris having her kid kinda made us realize how old we're starting to get. We've been talkin' about it, a lot, since things've settled down."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Prompto's mouth. A little Gladiolus, all rowdy and loud, and a little Noctis being as cheery as Ignis said Noctis was before the daemon attack.

"You two talked about how many you want?"

Something shifted in Gladiolus's eyes, something fond and warm, and he was reminded of just how much he loved Noctis.

"Yeah. Four. Two from me, two from him."

Prompto turned his smile back up to the perforated ceiling tiles. "We're gonna have to build a village for all of us."

"Pfft. No kidding. ... I can't believe you called Iggy a pillow princess."

He broke into a fit of giggled, covering his blushing cheeks, "I didn't - it wasn't supposed to sound like that! He just... Likes to relax."

"Hahaha! I don't care, you know I gotta give him shit for that."

"Gladio, if you tell him I said that, I'm slashing your tires."

That earned him more laughter, and he was pretty sure he was done for.

The doctor returned just a couple minutes later, a nurse carrying a tray of vials and a needle attached to a catheter in tow. When it came time for the pelvic exam, Gladiolus offered Prompto some privacy by excusing himself to the waiting room, now that they were both sure that he wasn't about to have a mental breakdown. By the end of the visit, Prompto still felt a little shaky, but he didn't feel... Awful. He didn't feel as heavy, or headachey, as before, even if he still felt sluggish from what felt like an entire lifetime's worth of tears being condensed into the last five hours.

Ignis called him as they were loading into Gladiolus's car, and Prompto couldn't get an angle on him. He sounded so goddamn neutral, like a robot -

Like he was bottling up his emotions.

Like he did after Altissia.

It made so much sense, now.

Gods, Prompto was so _stupid_!

He managed to convince Gladiolus to skip the diner so he could go straight home to him, which he only seemed a little displeased about. Prompto was pretty sure that it was mostly because he wanted to make sure he got some comfort food in him, because Noctis wasn't the only one that had a bad habit of spoiling his loved ones (even if Gladiolus used to get on Ignis's ass about it, years ago), but they both knew that the sooner Prompto talked to Ignis, the better.

"Thank you, for... This... By the way."

Gladiolus only spared him a glance as they pulled into the parking lot of their apartment building, "It's nothin'." He pulled into a stall, throwing the car into park. "Iris had to terminate a pregnancy when some dumbass knocked her up before getting himself killed on a hunt. It was when the sun was gone, so I was on a week-trip hunting some pack of Red Giants, and she had to go it alone, and..." he sighed, the muscles over his jaw flexing, "It tore her up. I couldn't let that happen to you, too."

Prompto was silent for a moment. He knew Iris had a bout of depression before she joined the hunters, but he had no idea why. Knowing she had to endure that alone, especially during the Dark Years... It broke his heart, and it made him so unbelievably thankful to have his friends in his life, to have Insomnia back, to have everything starting to feel normal, again.

"I love you, Gladio."

Pink dusted the Shield's cheeks, and he grinned a little, ruffling Prompto's hair. "Go inside and talk to your man, dumbass."

Grinning, he opened the door and started to climb out, until a firm hand gripped his shoulder.

"I... love you, too, Prom."

 _So, so thankful._

Despite it being just a little after noon, the apartment was dark when Prompto made it to their floor. Mostly from the sun shifting to glare at another side of their building, and the curtains were still drawn in the living room. There was still a set of keys hanging from the little keyholder thing next to the coat rack, and Ignis's perfectly shined shoes were still carefully lined up by the door, but he didn't see him in the couch or in the kitchen.

"Iggy..?"

A dark flash appeared in the doorway to their bedroom, and Ignis was practically sprinting towards him.

" _Prompto_!"

Surprise was probably a good word, but it didn't fully describe how taken aback he was when Ignis flung himself at him, gathering him up in his arms and squeezing him to his chest like he might float away, if he let go.

"Prompto, I am so, _so_ sorry," Ignis buried his nose in his hair, rubbed his cheek against the side of his head, "I'm so sorry, Prompto. I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_ -"

Still standing in front of the doorway, Prompto gave Ignis a minute to continue what felt like an endless stream of apologies. He kissed his forehead and cheeks, squeezed his arms and hips, and declared his love for him so many times that Prompto was actually too stunned for words. He could feel the way Ignis's muscles quivered with pent-up tension; he could hear his voice trembling with every apology; he could feel very shaky breath that puffed over his skin.

Oh, _Ignis_...

Placing his hands over Ignis's chest, Prompto finally tilted his head so their lips could slot together. The kiss was slow, but deep, full of an unbridled passion as Ignis took him by the hips to press their bodies flush. He let Ignis take the lead, let him get everything out that he couldn't get out with words, until his fingers were no longer shaking where they were pressing into his jeans.

"I know, Iggy," he whispered into his mouth.

"I should have been with you." He touched their foreheads together. "I should have communicated with you."

"I messed up, too," he reminded him, feeling soft and warm and content now that he had Ignis on him, around him, his scent wafting over him like a welcomed friend.

"You were scared, and I shut you out -"

Prompto silenced him with a kiss. "I know. It's okay. I forgive you."

That was when he realized that Ignis was crying.

"I wasn't sure if you were coming back," he explained, nuzzling their noses together, "You were gone for so long, and knowing you had called Gladio, I..."

"I didn't call him, he called me," he explained, dipping his head down so he could rest it on his shoulder, "He wanted to get lunch, and I kinda broke down, I guess, so he came over."

"Prompto, I am so, _so,_ _ **so**_ unbearably _sorry_. I love you so much, Prompto. I love you so _much_." Ignis's arms drifted up to circle his shoulders, holding him tight. "Are you alright? Are you in any pain?"

"I..." Prompto closed his eyes and waited, just for a moment. Just long enough to indulge in the comfort of his lover's arms, to let it soothe his aching heart. "I... Couldn't do it, Iggs. I saw them on the screen, and heard their little heartbeats, and I... I loved them too much to let them go."

"... Them..?"

"I'm carrying triplets."

Ignis sniffed, and his shoulders began to tremble, again.

" _Triplets_..." He gripped him tighter, " _Prompto_..."

Maybe it was weird to feel pleased by your lover breaking down into sobs, but Prompto couldn't help but smile just a little when Ignis cried softly in his ear. He listened to the way he chanted his name over and over, the way he murmured words of praise and love and reverence, like he was some kind of god to be worshiped, until he was crying, again, too.

"Prompto, oh, love..." Ignis peppered kisses over his hair, his neck, his shoulder, "You are keeping them? Truly?" When he nodded, Ignis released a noisy, almost gasping sob, and breathed, "I'm so _happy_... Oh, Prompto, I love you. I _love_ you - _oh_ , I'm so _happy_ \- oh, we're having _triplets_ - _three little babies_..."

"You... Wanna have them?"

"Of _course_ I do - Prompto, when you first showed me, I was so overcome with..." Ignis swallowed hard enough for his Adam's apple to bob next to his face, "I had never felt such unmitigated _euphoria_. Not even when Noctis returned from his battle with Ardyn, when we were so sure he had gone to sacrifice himself.I haven't ever been so happy in my _life_ , Prompto."

"Why... Why didn't you _say_ anything, then...?"

"I couldn't bear the thought of pressuring you into keeping it," he explained, his voice still no louder than a whisper, "Not if you truly wanted to terminate the pregnancy."

"I thought you wanted me to... To get rid of it. You were so quiet, you know?"

"No, never - never, _ever_. I so _desperately_ want to be a father with you, Prompto."

As much as it physically hurt him to do so, Prompto forced himself to step away from the warmth and safety of Ignis's arms - just enough so he could look at his face.

"Then... Iggy... We gotta talk."

He guided Ignis to the living room, sitting him down on the couch next to him. He explained everything that the doctor had told him, about the twins. He told him about the fifty-fifty chance of mortality for all three of them, before they even had a chance to live. He explained the likelihood of them being delivered with a deformity, or a development issue, that could end their lives right after they had begun. He spoke of the doctor's suggestion, to abort the twins just to ensure that at least one of their children would survive the pregnancy. He covered every threat, and every risk that the doctor had told him about, until they were both holding one another and crying together, wrapped in each other's arms and mourning the hardships their babies would be facing.

They shared more teary kisses, promised their love to each other, held their hands over his belly while they wished they could hold them properly. They promised to do this, together, while Ignis fell to his knees to kiss every inch of Prompto's belly, crooning words of adoration to his three tiny babies that couldn't yet hear his voice.

Hours later, when they were asleep in bed, Ignis had his head tucked into Prompto's shoulder, an arm wrapped protectively over his waist.

Prompto was scared. He was so _scared_.

But he had Ignis, and they were together.

They had seen the end of the world, and this was not it.


	3. Chapter 3

As it turned out, Noctis was way more into the idea of Prompto having a baby than any of them had actually predicted.

Telling him about the triplets was, quite honestly, one of the most exciting moments in Prompto's life. And he'd had a lot of exciting moments. He was a _pretty_ excitable guy.

It happened in stages, too, which really made the whole experience so much better, because it allowed him to savor everyone one of his reactions.

First, slowly, his eyebrows climbed up his forehead. His eyes widened, and flitted down to his belly. Despite it only being the eleventh week, Prompto's belly was already doing a pretty great job at stretching out his normally form-fitting t-shirt, so all he had to do was pull up the hem of his pullover to show off that, no, Prompto _wasn't_ getting fat, he actually _was_ pregnant.

Then, Noctis's jaw dropped, just a little. Just enough for his lips to part into a little _o_. His eyes kept bouncing between his swollen stomach, and Prompto's face, while Gladiolus snickered behind him. He looked stunned, or confused, like he couldn't actually figure out what he was looking at.

When it finally clicked, when that final gear clicked into place and he realized that he was looking at his best friends' three unborn children, Noctis's eyes grew even _wider_ , and his face split with the brightest, happiest smile Prompto had _ever_ seen.

" _Oh_ – oh my _god_ ," Noctis reached for his hands, eyes glued to his stomach, "Oh my _god_ \- _Prompto_!" He started to laugh and squeeze Prompto's hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he wanted to start jumping around the room, "That's – this's – this is _awesome_!"

He shuffled forward then, still smiling brighter than the sun, and pulled him into a crushing hug. Just as soon as he let him go, Noctis laughed and dragged him back to his chest. They see-sawed on their feet, swaying back and forth, giggling together like they were teenagers again, and basking in the occasion. His scruff was starting to itch on Prompto's neck, but he couldn't bring himself to pull back, just yet. After all of the tears, panic attacks, and deep-seated fear, it felt nice to be able to finally fully celebrate.

Noctis calmed down after a few more moments, but his pretty blue eyes were still _glittering_ with bridled mirth, and his lips were curved into a genuinely happy smile. "How far along are you? When are you due? What are you going to name them?" He jerked his head up at Ignis, who had been silently standing just off to Prompto's side, lips wearing a pleased smile of his own, "And, dude, talk about a happy birthday!"

"Alright, Princess, take a chill pill," Gladiolus growled warmly, coming up behind their King to circle his thick arms around his shoulders. He kissed the top of his head when he drew him back to hug him from behind, and Prompto couldn't help but marvel by just how _young_ Noctis looked. When was the last time anyone had seen him smile this _much_ – this _brightly_?

The hand cupping the small of his back told him that Ignis was thinking the same thing. Even if he couldn't see Noctis with his eyes, he could hear the untempered joy in his voice.

"Yes, this is undeniably the _best_ present I have ever received."

Prompto leaned in to his side, teasingly nudging him with his shoulder. " _And_ you got it early," he reminded.

Ignis's smile grew to show a flash of teeth, " _And_ I got it early."

"So? Due date? Names?" Noctis was practically vibrating out of his skin, and Prompto was pretty sure that Gladiolus's embrace was the only thing keeping him from gluing himself to Prompto's side.

"Barring any complications, we should be expecting the triplets' arrival in the first week of September," Ignis answered calmly, "As for names, I am afraid it is a tad too early to be making any decisions."

"Yeah, I mean, normal pregnancies are easy, 'cos you just pick out a boy and a girl name, and wait to find out its gender," Prompto added, "But I'm not creative enough to come up with six different names, you know?"

Well, the main reason was because the pregnancy was still in its early stages, so they were at an increased risk for complications. Not naming them would, according to their doctor, keep them from getting too attached, in case the worst happened.

But Noctis didn't need to know that, not when he was still brimming with delight, the happiest any of them had ever seen him. They'd discuss it, later, when they weren't on their way to celebrate Ignis's birthday.

It was all for the best, since Prompto was having a pretty fun time with watching him trying to subtly fuss over him, having come down from the high of the moment but still way beyond cloud nine; no one wanted to extinguish the glittering in his eyes, just yet.

"You're sure you got this?" he asked for the umpteenth time, still coming to take Prompto's elbow after he huffed one too many times over going down the front steps of the Citadel.

Yeah, stairs? Stairs fucking _suck_. And the Citadels got, like, eighty thousand of them. Just getting out of the _throne room_ had felt like a marathon and a half.

"Dude, I'm fine," Prompto insisted, before leaning too far forward and wobbling enough for Ignis and Noctis to both tighten their holds.

"Perhaps you should focus less on your pride, and more on your bodily safety," Ignis drawled, thoroughly unimpressed with his attempts at bravado.

Gladiolus looked a little nervous, too, and his hands were doing that twitching thing again, like he'd rather he just carry Prompto the rest of the way down. Because that wouldn't be embarrassing, or anything.

Prompto pouted, but let the two support his weight. "I'm not even that pregnant!"

"For triplets, no," Ignis half-agreed, "But, were this a single pregnancy, this would be about the size you would find yourself at well into your second, if not third, trimester. Your equilibrium is off, and I will be damned if I allow your braggadocio to send you tumbling down the Citadel entrance."

"Braggadocio," Gladiolus echoed, rolling the syllables around on his tongue to get a feel for them, "That's a good word, Iggy."

"Why thank you. I felt it was quite fitting."

Noctis ignored them, eyes still glued to Prompto's belly when he wasn't watching out for the next step. "So, is all that stuff they say about being pregnant true?" When he received little more than a raised eyebrow, he continued with, "Like, mood swings and morning sickness and stuff?"

On cue, Prompto's stomach churned at just the idea of the mornings he'd spent puking in the bathroom. And the kitchen. And the doctor's office. And _his_ office. And the bushes outside the apartment...

He ripped his arm out of Noctis's hold to clamp a hand over his mouth, screwing his eyes shut as his insides soured.

"Alright, darling, let's set you down."

With every ounce of care in the world, Ignis helped Prompto sit down on the shallow step they were standing on. Prompto took long, slow lungfuls of air, careful not to let himself do that weird hyperventilate thing that he does right before puking, and leaned leaned into Ignis's body to take some of the baby weight off of his guts.

"Shit, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, like, trigger anything -"

"It is quite alright, Noct," Ignis cut in, already having fished a thermos from a messenger bag he'd begun carrying around (it also carried sick bags, but he'd like to avoid using one if at all possible), "His stomach is merely more sensitive than in the past."

Prompto groaned around the small sip of juice he allowed himself, huffing a little in his misery.

"Would'a been nice if someone'd warned me that having more babies would make it worse," he grumbled.

He took another sip of juice. It was some kind of apple and pear mix, but he knew Ignis had put a shit ton of kale into it to help with his protein intake. It was good, even if he didn't really want to admit it. It helped that it was still chilled, since they'd learned the hard way that Prompto's stomach was _not_ okay with anything warm when it was feeling testy.

"Kinda makes sense, though, if you think about it."

That warned Gladiolus a heated glare, and he held up his hands in defense.

A cold breeze rolled through the courtyard, cooling Prompto's heated face as he handed the thermos back to Ignis. He leaned his head on Ignis's shoulder and closed his eyes to enjoy it.

Noctis kneeled down in front of him, between his spread legs, and offered a shy smile.

"Can I..?"

Prompto hummed, and Ignis smiled at the almost childlike wonder in his eyes when his palm came to rest over Prompto's belly. Noctis's hand coasted over the curve of his body with unmistakable reverence, passing back and forth and following the shape of him, all gentle touches and fleeting pressure.

Heat returned to his cheeks but, this time, it was pleasantly different. He opened his eyes when a second hand joined it, this one noticeably larger and very obviously Gladio's, who looked a little sheepish when the attention momentarily shifted onto him.

"It's gotten bigger since last time," he explained, and the eyes of the group returned to Prompto's swollen stomach.

Ignis's hand pointedly did not make any attempt to join them, likely because he knew he would have the opportunity later. He did, however, place a hand over Noctis's hair when he leaned forward to touch his forehead to Prompto's pregnancy, both hands coming to rest on either side of him.

"You're... You're _amazing_ , Prom."

Prompto chuckled nervously, and fidgeted a little. "I mean... All I did was let Iggy blow his load in me," he ignored Gladiolus's grimace, "Nothin' really special about that."

"Maybe? When you put it like that, no, I guess, but..." Noctis shuffled a little closer, and Prompto could've sworn he heard a sniff.

"You're... You're making _babies_ , Prom," Noctis continued, pausing to press a kiss to his belly, "You're making three _human beings,_ all at once _._ I'm the _King_ of Lucis - the _Chosen_ King, the _Bringer of Dawn,_ the Crystal's beneficiary, and all that shit. I can defeat gods, and eradicate the Starscourge, but I can't make _life_ , like you can. And..."

Noctis trailed off, withdrawing to squat back on his heels. There were fresh tear tracks on his cheeks, but his eyes were nearly closed with another radiant smile.

"Just, holy shit, I love you two so fuckin' much," he half-cried, half-laughed, and smoothed his palms over his bump, as if trying to caress his unborn children, "And I love _them_ , and this is so fucking amazing... A-and I'm so _happy_ , I just -"

He wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve, clearly cutting himself off before he could lose himself, but it was Gladiolus's quiet snuffle that did him in.

"I love you, too," Prompto whimpered, leaning in to drape his arms around Noctis's shoulders.

Gladio buried his face to the side of Noctis's head, and Prompto could feel his uneven breathing puff against his hair.

"You know we're gonna help you," Gladiolus murmured, voice gruff, "Three kids is gonna be a lot. But you two've got us."

Noctis nodded in agreement, his scruff scratching against Prompto's cheek, and pulled back to look Prompto and Ignis in the eyes.

"Right. Whatever you need," he managed between heavy, wet sniffs, "You can move into the Citadel, if you want - in the royal wing, with me and Gladio." Noctis's jaw set as his mind worked, already trying to work out the logistics of three newborns despite his puffy eyes and runny nose, "Or I'll send people to help with laundry, and cleaning, and feeding, and stuff. And I'll pick out nannies for when you come back to the Citadel."

Something changed in his eyes, then. The excitement was still there, as was the determination to help his friends, but there was an iota of uncertainty lurking behind everything else.

"I mean... If you wanna come back. I get it, if you don't."

Prompto shook his head and wiped his cheeks with his gloved fingertips. "I dunno, yet. We, uh... We haven't talked about that..."

Everything had just been happening so fast, and there were so many things to _worry_ about...

"That's fine," Gladiolus cut in, taking Prompto's hand in his, "You take your time. Nyx and Libertus've got the Crownsguard under control, so you just focus on staying healthy for those babies."

"Yeah. I'll always need you, if you wanna come back," Noctis agreed, "But family's more important than duty."

Ignis took this moment to join the conversation, and reached for their king's shoulder; he gave it a firm, reassuring squeeze.

"I will remain by your side, Noct, regardless of his decision," he assured him, with more loyalty than any one person should ever feel towards another, "And we would be most grateful for whatever help you have to offer."

Noctis took his shoulder, as well, with an equally serious expression.

"And I swear I will protect your children from that disgusting green shit you try to pass off as food."

A weary sigh passed through Ignis's lips while the other three shared a round of laughter, but there was still an unmistakable hint of a smile on his face.

Decades ago, when Prompto faceplanted into the dirt in front of Noctis, all he'd wanted was a friend. A single friend to share his time with.

Now, he had three of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. Memories of an adventure of a lifetime, even if the moments weren't all good. A partner that adored him. A family that loved him more than anything. And, soon, three beautiful children that would grow up in that same family, and Prompto would make sure that none of them were _ever_ alone, like he always used to be.

And, like everything else they did, they were going to do it together.


End file.
